


Senseless

by legendofthesevenstars



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, M/M, Mahad Lives AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28579566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars
Summary: Allen recovers Duke Freid from the battlefield, bandages his wounds, and scolds him for trying to sacrifice his life.
Relationships: Mahad Dal Freid/Allen Schezar
Kudos: 2





	Senseless

**Author's Note:**

> My friend suggested this concept to me while I was working on "Amnesty." I was really excited by the idea, and I finally got around to writing it.

The Duke of Freid lay motionless in the middle of the plains. After he’d surrendered, a dozen arrows had pierced his chest, and he’d fallen lifeless to the ground. Allen had tried to stop him, but it was useless arguing with a man who’d decided his fate. Even if he was the man who’d loved Marlene and raised Chid when Allen couldn’t be there for them.

Moments after the Duke fell, the Zaibach army withdrew. The surviving Freidian soldiers began lifting and transporting fallen Melefs and bodies, and tending to injured machines and people. Two men in Melefs used cables to tow the remains of the Duke’s Guymelef, but no one was attending to the Duke himself.

Had they assumed he was already dead? The Duke had been hurt while fighting Dilandau. But arrows alone were not a death sentence. They could have struck his heart or lungs, but they also could have missed his organs entirely. He might be dead. But he might be alive.

Before anyone could ask him to help tow Melefs or carry bodies, Allen ran over to the Duke, kneeling at his side. Blood had already seeped through both layers of his regalia. He unhooked the reflective ornament from the Duke’s overshirt, but when he tilted his head, he didn’t see breath fogging it. He put the ornament back, then placed two fingers at the base of the Duke’s jaw. He was shocked and relieved to feel a very faint pulse.

“Your Majesty?” He grabbed one shoulder and shook him gently. “Duke Freid?”

No response. Allen lifted him, just as the _Crusade_ arrived in the distance. Van was already walking Escaflowne on board. Gaddes called, “Hey, Boss,” and pointed to Scherazade. Allen nodded to give him permission to walk it onto the _Crusade_. He had to take care of the Duke.

He brought the Duke aboard the _Crusade_ and into one of the spare cabins, lowering him slowly and carefully onto the bed. He left to gather rags and bandages, and returned quickly, leaving the door open a crack. He grabbed the chair in the corner and brought it over to the side of the bed, sitting down.

Cautiously, he lifted the Duke under his head and pulled the first arrow free, then the next. The Duke’s body was still limp, and Allen couldn’t hear him breathing. He checked his pulse again. It was fluttering, but there. Allen yanked another arrow free, and another, and another, and another. Tears burned behind his eyes. Why had the Duke offered his life to Zaibach like some noble sacrifice? He could have died!

“You should consider yourself lucky,” Allen admonished him, dislodging another arrow. “Lucky you even survived.”

The Duke had told him he should consider himself lucky to have known Marlene. It wasn’t luck; though he was happy to have known her, his life had only become more of a disaster because he had. He’d never been allowed to be with her again, never felt the same happiness he’d felt with her, never seen his son until now. The Duke had spent all that time with her, and with Chid. Then he’d tried to throw all that away. Didn’t he know how lucky _he_ was?

“You damn _fool_ ,” Allen snarled, snatching another arrow from his chest. He curled his other fist against the bed, grasping the sheets in his fingers. “You’ve angered me. But I don’t hate you. I can’t.” He pulled the second-to-last arrow free, more gently this time. “When I was younger, I thought I hated you, just because you had everything that I wanted.” He paused, staring at the remaining arrow, clutching the edge of the bed with one hand.

“But then I finally met you. At first, I thought you hated me. But you were kind enough to forgive me, and from that moment on, I respected you. I thought you were stronger and braver than I ever could be. Because you kept them safe when I couldn’t be there for them.” He sighed in exasperation, leaning back over the Duke’s chest. As he jerked the last arrow back and forth to free it, he spoke through clenched teeth: “So—why—would you ever—give it all up like that?!”

The Duke suddenly winced, his body tensing, as Allen removed the final arrow. Allen’s stomach curled in shame. Had he heard any of that?

“Your Majesty?” Allen said quietly. The Duke’s eyelids fluttered, but he remained silent. “Duke Freid?”

“Allen.” The Duke grimaced. “Ah, my head…”

Allen removed the Duke’s helmet, setting it aside. His dark brown hair curled with sweat and blood, and there was a raw, open gash at his hairline.

“What of Zaibach?” the Duke asked weakly.

“You survived your senseless sacrifice and the first thing you ask is ‘what happened to Zaibach’?” Allen shook his head. “You really are a fool.”

The Duke only grumbled in response. Allen tried lifting him to sit up, but when he grunted in pain, he slowly lowered him back onto the pillows. Propping the Duke’s head up with one hand, he wrapped bandages around his hairline, tucking them in the back, and wiped the blood from the bridge of his nose with a rag.

“It was not senseless,” the Duke said. Allen froze on his way to take off the Duke’s regalia. “It was what I had to do.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t senseless. It was _stupid_.”

“Would you judge my actions without knowing my motivations?”

“I will judge as harshly as I want. You are not just a royal with a duty to protect his countrymen. You are a father. And a father does not throw his life away when his son needs him to be there for him!”

Scowling, Allen untied the sash at the Duke’s waist. He felt like throwing the swords aside, but he resisted the childish impulse and set them down gently instead. Though anger and sorrow made his head pound and his vision blur, he was slow and deliberate in removing the Duke’s clothes. First, he unfastened the top of the tunic, then eased it off the Duke’s shoulders, his hands brushing the taut muscles in his arms. Then he slowly rolled the edges of his gray undershirt up, pulling the loose cowl over the Duke’s head and revealing his chest, covered in coarse dark hair matted with blood. He picked up a rag and began wiping the blood from the Duke’s exposed chest. He sniffled, trying to dam the tears that threatened to arise.

“Your hands are gentle,” the Duke said. “But you are no doctor. You are a Knight of Asturia.”

Allen said nothing, though his stomach twisted at the Duke calling his touch gentle.

“Why did you help me? Why not wait for a doctor, or for water to wash the blood away?”

“Because I pledged my life to you, Your Majesty. This is my failing. Now I must make amends.”

The Duke hummed in recognition. “And would you have given your life in my place?”

“It doesn’t matter whether I would have done the same. I only want to know what could have made you act so foolishly.”

Grabbing a fresh rag, Allen turned the Duke’s body toward him and, leaning over, wiped the blood from his back. He helped him lay flat on the bed again. Then, beginning at the base of his ribs, he wrapped bandages around his torso.

“My life would have been the only offering that could have stopped Zaibach,” the Duke said, watching Allen wrap his wounds. “They cannot be allowed to know that I survived.”

“But why did you do it? Why, when you have something, someone, important to protect, not just your country?”

“The gods want us to undergo a great trial. I offered my life so that future could be realized. Soon, the power of Atlantis will belong to Zaibach. But I trust that the people of Gaea have the willpower to overcome—”

“Please, Your Majesty. I’ve heard enough.”

Allen breathed in, trying to hold back the anger bubbling in his chest. He tucked the bandages tightly at the peak of the Duke’s ribcage, and left his hand on top of the bandages. His fingers were bent at the knuckle, his fingertips resting on the Duke’s bare chest. The acrid smells of blood and sweat stung his nose, though they weren’t responsible for the tears burning behind his eyes again.

“Don’t you realize how much your life is worth?” he whispered, unable to meet the Duke’s eyes, looking instead at the angles of his collarbones and jaw. “To your fellow men, to Chid, to Marlene?”

The Duke seemed to choke on whatever he was about to say next. When he’d finally gathered his breath, he said, “My life was simply another sacrifice the war demanded. I did not come here intending to die, but by the end, I knew I was not supposed to live.” Before Allen could cut in, he furrowed his brow, his permanent frown returning to his face. “So why save me? Why not leave me to die?”

“You need to live.” Allen curled his fingers against the bandages. When he blinked, a tear dripped onto the Duke’s chest, running through the unbloodied hair and down to the edges of his bandages. “Chid is not the only one who would be deprived if you would die. And your countrymen are not the only ones who care for you.”

“But my sacrifice was for the sake of Chid and my countrymen—”

“Enough, Your Majesty!” Allen grasped the Duke’s shoulders, shaking him. “What would Marlene think of your foolish actions? Abandoning your son for the sake of war? What kind of man _are_ you?”

The Duke gasped, his lower lip trembling. His brown eyes went wide, and Allen’s heart turned over. Until that tender gaze the Duke had given him before his sacrifice, he hadn’t noticed just how warm and soft his eyes were, a contrast to his stoic, severe demeanor. Allen let go of the Duke’s shoulders, setting his hand on top of the bandages again, and kept his eyes locked with the Duke’s.

“I understand now. You care not only for Marlene and Chid,” the Duke said quietly.

He lifted his hand to his chest, covering Allen’s knuckles and fingers with his palm. Allen’s breath hitched, and his heart caught in his throat.

“It is true. Marlene would think me a fool,” the Duke mused, briefly averting his eyes. “If she were still alive, I would have had second thoughts.”

“But none on account of Chid?”

The Duke closed his eyes briefly. “Perhaps… No. I _am_ a fool. Blinded by the trajectory of destiny, I failed to look right in front of myself. Please allow me to apologize.”

“I accept, Your Majesty.”

“I am glad.” He rubbed the back of Allen’s hand, smiling faintly. “You are a kind and generous soul. She was lucky, indeed.” He hesitated before adding, in a barely audible whisper, “And so is Chid.”

“Your Majesty,” Allen began to say, but he cut himself off. “May I call you Mahad?”

“Please. In fact, I would prefer it.” He continued to rub Allen’s knuckles, making his heart beat faster. “What do you wish to tell me?”

“Mahad, I am not generous. My concerns were selfish. Of course I thought about Chid’s future, but that wasn’t the only reason.” He swallowed. “I didn’t want _you_ to die. Because I wanted to know the man she married, and the man who raised Chid. Because I wanted to know Mahad, not the Duke of Freid.”

“Ah, I see.” He patted the back of Allen’s hand. “I have always respected you not just for the happiness you brought Marlene, but for the kind of man she always said you were.” He sighed, his features tensing slightly. “Though you may still think I do, I could never resent you. On the contrary, I found myself often wishing for a chance to meet the man who made my dear Marlene smile and helped bring my son into this world.”

Allen hesitated only a moment before he met Mahad’s eyes again. He wanted to thank him, but the words seemed to dry up in his throat. He hoped Mahad would understand if it remained unspoken between them.

“Your eyes,” Mahad said, his features softening. “They remind me of the sky.”

Allen turned his hand over, curling his fingers into Mahad’s palm. “Why do you say that?”

“They are so vibrant and full of life. Just like my son’s.”

Allen’s stomach was tightening with nerves. Mahad leaned up to place his other hand on his cheek, and his heart clenched.

“It might have been any man she loved before me, but I am glad it was you.”

Allen’s nerves eased slightly. “Are you certain? Especially now that you have met me, and know I’m a selfish fool?”

“Of course I am certain.” Mahad rubbed Allen’s cheek with his thumb. “I always suspected we were two of a kind. Foolish and blinded by our love.”

Allen raised his left hand to his cheek, covering Mahad’s hand. His heart pounded in his throat, and desire warmed his body. It wasn’t the kind of desire that felt like a brief, whole-body rush, burning out when it was satisfied. This ran deeper, and it felt more like a connection.

“Love for her?” he asked, loosely clutching Mahad’s hand, though he already knew the answer.

“Not only that,” was the low, soft answer that made his heart skip a beat. “I miss Marlene. I know you do as well. But a person has room for more than one beloved in their heart.”

His palms were sweating as he stared at Mahad’s lips, his jaw, his collarbones. He wanted so badly to believe that he had room for more than one beloved in his heart, with his pulse fluttering in his throat and his body prickling with desire. He wanted to ask about the other beloved to whom Mahad was opening the door of his heart, even as he felt the rusted door of his own heart open, and felt the light slowly pouring in, a realization.

“Mahad.”

“Yes, Allen.”

“May I—”

He swallowed, cutting himself off. A small part of him still doubted Mahad would say yes. Yet the way he was looking at him made him doubt that he even needed to ask.

“Go on.”

“May I kiss you?”

Mahad smiled. “Yes. You may.”

Dropping his hand from Allen’s cheek to clutch his shoulder, he leaned up slightly, and Allen bowed his head, closing his eyes. Mahad’s lips were warm, and his mustache brushed against Allen’s upper lip. He felt and heard him breathe a sigh through his nose, and trembled when his tongue touched his.

“Never endanger your life like that again,” Allen said when he broke away, caressing Mahad’s cheek. “Not for anything.”

“From now on, I will live. For you and for Chid. You have my word.”


End file.
